


Tactile Feedback Done in Loops

by Siilence



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Dom/sub, Edging, M/M, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-20
Updated: 2014-09-20
Packaged: 2018-02-18 03:26:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2333531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siilence/pseuds/Siilence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil's had a hard day and needs something to weight him down. Carlos is, as always, up for such a task.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tactile Feedback Done in Loops

After the hardest days Cecil often needed something to hold him down. He often got caught up in the what ifs, the unknowable questions of the void that tried to pull him up and away from the steady ground. It had, in the time before Carlos, made him bitter, made him a friend of liquor stores, loneliness, and existential terror.

Cecil had told him one quiet night about the times before, about his desperation to save himself from slipping into sadness. It had started with Earl, the rough hands of his earliest friend pushing down his shoulders, sitting him on the floor and then holding him there, a steady and constant pressure. And it had helped.

So Cecil bought weighted blankets, sat himself on the floor even when he was alone, pretended the weight across his shoulders were fingers. He would close his eyes and let himself sink beneath the feeling, let it ground him.

Carlos had felt proud to learn all this, that Cecil hadn’t let himself whither in it, had searched out what he needed and taken care of himself. It was good to know that while Carlos adored taking care of Cecil, it wasn’t a dependent situation. That if anything ever happened to Carlos, Cecil could get on. In a place like Night Vale Carlos needed that reassurance.

Still, there were some things Carlos could give him that he couldn’t give himself.

Cecil had been sitting between his legs for a while now watching an old musical playing on the television. Initially the title had sounded familiar to Carlos, but as with most things the Night Vale version was wildly different. It didn’t bother Carlos any, he was dividing his attention between the television and petting Cecil as it were.

They had brought out Cecil’s weighted blanket after dinner when Cecil was looking a little too flighty and it was currently spread over his boyfriends lap. He had settled somewhat, but Carlos could still see his fingers fret with the edges of the blanket every so often. His hands were an easy measure of Cecil’s internal turmoil.

Carlos slid his hands through the thick dark hair, twisting together small braids and then gently pulling them out. Cecil hummed every so often when Carlos tugged at his locks.

But the day had been particularly bad, and what usually soothed Cecil was only muting the anxiety.

“Cecil,” Carlos finally spoke after several more minutes of running his hands across his boyfriend’s neck and shoulders.

“Hm?” Cecil sort of tilted his head, but not enough to make eye contact. That was never a good sign.

“Cecil, look at me a moment.” He made his voice deeper, more commanding.

There was a moment of stillness and then Cecil leaned away from the couch so he could turn around and sit on his legs facing Carlos. It took still a few seconds longer for those violet eyes to raise to his.

“Darling,” Carlos moved his hands across the sharp planes of cheekbones and then down to those lips. Cecil opened his mouth just a little for Carlos’ thumb. He could feel Cecil’s warm tongue run over the pad of his finger, sucking at it. “What can I do? I know you need more, but do you want to talk or do you want this?” Carlos pushed his thumb further in, drawing nonsense symbols over Cecil’s tongue and giving him a moment to enjoy the sensation before pulling his finger out.

Cecil drew a deep breath, his eyes fell and his shoulders followed suit. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

“Okay,” Carlos traced over the creases that had appeared on his boyfriends face, soothed them away in careful strokes. “Can you tell me what you want?”

Dark eyelashes fluttered, the eyes flicked up to Carlos and then back down. That was shyness.

But then Cecil was reaching for the hand that Carlos had put on his shoulder and was pulling it back to his mouth. This time his index and middle finger slipped into Cecil’s mouth. Carlos let him suck for a moment and then moved his fingers, putting pressure on his tongue and swirling designs on the slick surface.

Cecil made a pleased sound, his eyes shutting as he relaxed into it. They had done this on a few of the worst occasions and Cecil had told him afterward how much it helped him stay present and focused. Carlos wasn’t about to complain, there was something very intimate, very sensual about having your fingers in someone else’s mouth.

It had been hard the first time, a primal instinct in the back of Carlos’ brain had screamed at him that putting your fingers in someone else’s mouth was immediately dangerous. It had spiked again later when Cecil had lightly clamped a finger between his teeth. It hadn’t hurt, was just the pressure of teeth on his skin, but those animal instincts were still alarmed.

Now, Carlos found he was embracing that spike of alertness he got when Cecil sucked on his fingers. He ran his pointer finger over Cecil’s molars, across the inside of his cheek and back to his tongue. Scientifically, the hands, lips and tongue had the most nerve endings on the human body. Carlos thought about this, about how between them this was the most sensory input they could possibly achieve.

Cecil shifted a little, settling himself better and leaning forward, drawing Carlos’ fingers all the way into his mouth. He sucked at them, swirling his tongue around and under and between his fingers. And then Cecil’s eyes opened and he looked up.

The breath in Carlos’ lungs hitched. Those eyes were focused, alive with a much more present Cecil. They were darker, mimicking the hungry look taking over his boyfriend’s features.

And then Cecil sucked hard, cheeks hollowing, and Carlos felt his cock throb.

It wasn’t a large jump from sucking on his fingers to sucking on his cock, but they had never made that jump in this kind of scenario. Cecil was thinking it though, he had started sliding his tongue around those fingers like he did on Carlos’ cock. It was impossible for it to escape notice.

His body had no protest to this idea either. The heat was crawling down his spine, filling his cock and making his current pair of pants very uncomfortable.

Cecil’s eyes dropped to the bulge and he pulled back, sliding those fingers slick with saliva almost out of his mouth before he leaned back in and took them all the way back in. Carlos swallowed air, wanted desperately to free himself and bury himself in the space currently occupied by his fingers. To control himself he gripped at Cecil’s hair with his free hand and dragged him off of Carlos’ fingers.

“If there’s something else you want,” it came out as a growl and Cecil’s lips quirked into a mischievous smile. Carlos jerked the hair in his grip and the smirk vanished in an obscene gasp, “You need only ask, dearest.”

Carlos released his hair, could see how much Cecil wanted him to tug at it again. Still, he pulled his hands off entirely, an eyebrow raised in expectation.

“Carlos,” the whine came in three syllables, batting lashes and a pink tongue that licked over his lips.

“Yes?”

“Please!” Cecil leaned into his lap, rubbing his cheek against the fabric of his inner thigh.

It took Carlos a mammoth amount of will to hold out, “Please what?”

“Please, sir,” Those wicked hands were sliding up Carlos’ thighs, heading for the clasp of his pants.

“Please sir is not a request,” Carlos stopped the hands, held them in his own. “Now, what do you want?”

A blush rose to Cecil’s cheeks and he looked away, demure. “Can I, uh. Can I suck your cock? Ah, sir?”

A breath Carlos didn’t realize he’d been holding rushed out. “Hands stay here.” He placed Cecil’s hands on the outside of his thighs and then went about unbuttoning and tugging down his pants. He got them down to his knees and then couldn’t be bothered further because Cecil was leaning forward, eyes rapt like he was about to receive a prize.

Carlos slid one hand around the back of Cecil’s head, taking a bit of hair in his fist. He ushered Cecil forward and with his free hand grasped his cock, angled it to just touch Cecil’s lips. The lips parted instantly, a rush of warm air made Carlos shutter. “Take your time.”

He released Cecil and leaned back against the couch, granting permission.

His cock slipped between those lips and into that heat and Carlos had to grasp at the couch cushion, had to close his eyes to block out the lovely sight of his cock disappearing and reappearing from that mouth. His breathing shuttered and his hips tried to thrust up into Cecil’s throat.

But then Cecil was settling, pulling back and slowing down until Carlos’ cock just sat on his tongue.

When Carlos thought he had mastered himself once more, pulled away from that precipice, he opened his eyes and looked down.

Cecil was doing exactly as he did with fingers in his mouth, sucking slowly, eyes closed, letting the weight on his tongue pacify him.

And Carlos wasn’t sure he had ever seen anything more arousing in his entire life. Cecil looked serene, still aroused as the pink across his cheeks suggested, but he was in no hurry to finish. If Carlos were honest with himself, he was a little curious as to how long this could go on.

So he let Cecil continue at his pace. He would start slowly, sliding the tip of Carlos’ cock across his lips and then slowly, so slowly, push it through the barrier, onto his tongue and then back to his throat. He increased the speed until Carlos was grasping at cushions, mumbling nonsense and warning Cecil that he was _so, so close—_

Then it would stop. Cecil would pull back, wait for Carlos to slide back down and then take him back into his mouth once more.

It was torture that went on and on, he was balancing between the lines of orgasm and vasocongestion, and even though he wanted to come desperately, he didn’t want it to end. He wanted to imprint the peaceful look on Cecil’s face into his memory to remind himself every time he got caught up with science why exactly he needed to make sure he go home on time.

The movie had ended some time ago. Time wasn’t real here, but it still felt like it was slipping around on Carlos. How long had he been here on the edge? He was so hard, throbbing and sore. It was sharp, awful and amazing at the same time.

Cecil’s hands twitched against his thighs, drawing his attention. Carlos looked down into those eyes, they were dark again, but not manic. He watched Cecil hum against the head of his cock and then slide him back into his mouth, never breaking eye contact.

And Carlos knew this was the end. This was the end and he was not going to make it out alive.

Not with the way Cecil was building him up, slower than previous times, but there was more pressure from his tongue. There was a very careful graze of teeth and Carlos huffed, “Cecil, sweetness, ah—!”

Cecil leaned in again, took him back into his throat, swallowing around him. Carlos grasped at the hand still on his thigh, squeezed Cecil’s hand in his own. “Fuck, baby please.”

The words were falling out, curses and praise and gibberish. He was rising and warm, burning up. He watched Cecil, beautiful, magnificent Cecil slide up and then down, down, his cock into the back of his throat. Carlos was going to die, he was coming undone, he was—

Cecil rumbled something and that was it, Carlos cried out, coming in hard, spine-tingling jerks. It went on, throbbing and good, so good. He lost himself in it, burbling out Cecil’s name in the hazy whiteness of it. Somewhere very far away he could feel Cecil swallowing around him, groaning and humming in his own pleasure.

It took some time to find his way back and when he did he held out his hand for Cecil, pulling him up onto the couch with him. Everything was soft and bleary and perfect. There was a mess on the front of Cecil’s pants and Cecil huffed a small drunken laugh when he saw Carlos notice.

“You were so good,” Carlos wrapped an arm around Cecil and then pulled the weighted blanket up with the other. He bundled them both together and then planted a soft, sweet kiss on Cecil’s lips. “How do you feel?”

Cecil’s eyes were half-lidded. He looked drunk, but pleased. “Calm. Good. Sleepy.” His voice was shadow of its former self.

Carlos chuckled, pulled Cecil tighter against his chest. “Okay, we’ll rest here for a minute and then you’re gonna have some juice while I get you cleaned up and then we can go to bed. Sound good?”

Cecil hummed, nuzzled into his neck. Carlos smiled, petting gently at his hair and enjoying their little space.

**Author's Note:**

> I just really like blowjobs. And there's no way Cecil doesn't have an oral fixation, c'mon.


End file.
